Number One on Your Playlist
by DrunkOnJerichohol
Summary: Chris Irvine bears an affinity for hot rocker chicks with stage presence, striking vocals, and the appearance of a goddess. As it turns out, the female lead vocalist of his favorite band embodies every trait he believes to be ideal. After a chance encounter at one of the band's shows, multiple friendships bloom, but only one develops into an everlasting bond. (Extremely AU)
1. Rise, Rush, Crash

******Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Any and all original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Stephanie's life was but a repeated three-step sequence.

_Rise, rush, crash. _

_Rise_ with performance adrenaline, _rush_ at the climax of the gig, _crash_ with the cessation of the concert. Sex, drugs, and rock & roll had never been instilled as a maxim for her band, primarily because there were more considerable matters at hand, not to mention, they were all generally responsible adults. Millions of records sold worldwide, thousands of venues sold out across the country and overseas, and a handful of Grammy awards were the tip of the iceberg on the long list of her band's accolades. It was game time _all_ the time, whether they were playing in a cramped club or a packed arena, and Stephanie wouldn't have had it any other way.

An exhilarated snicker wracked her body as she leaned against the stucco wall backstage with her eyes clamped shut. It wasn't until she sensed someone in close proximity that she blinked them open to find Jack, their accomplished bass player, leaning alongside her as he simpered at the grand display of elation on her face. "It never gets old, does it?" he inquired.

"Never," she agreed, shaking her head in awe. "I don't think I'll ever get over the roar of the crowds no matter how long I do this."

"You'd better hope you don't, because if you lose that passion for this, that'll mean it's time to hang up your boots and move onto something else," Jack pointed out and followed that up with a flip of his head to move his shaggy, layer-cut blond hair out of his face.

His cotton t-shirt boasting their band's logo engulfed him, making him appear even more timorous than normal. While tall in stature, Jack had no muscle build and basic features that made him blend into the crowd more than was probably acceptable for a rock star. His elite guitar-playing skills were perhaps the one trait that helped him stand out the most, and that was why Stephanie chose him all those years ago in high school to be a part of the group. What originated as an offhand, after-school project, playing in the garage of Stephanie's house, had morphed into an award-winning band that had bonded more during their numerous years on the road together than most families did in a lifetime.

"Go get a shower," Stephanie directed as she pinched at Jack's sweat-soaked shirt and made an impish display of sticking her tongue out, "then go get changed into clean clothes so we can grab the other guys and get some dinner. I wish we could eat on the beach."

"It's dark, and people aren't really supposed to be there at night."

"I know, but I still wanna go," she crossed her arms, defiant — as was the status quo — and tapped her right foot against the freshly polished floor. "I say we sneak onto the beach and eat by the water," she proposed, then off Jack's dawdling demeanor, "Oh, come on! We're rockers but we can't even find it in ourselves to sneak onto the beach? It's not _that _big a deal."

"All right, but if we land in hot water, you're the one who needs to take the heat for it."

"I will. Where are Pete and Repeat?"

Jack shook his head and shrugged as he ambled off in the direction of his individual dressing room. "No clue. Let me go get showered and we'll find them," he offered.

"Cool," Stephanie agreed.

Pete was their trusty, and extraordinarily consistent, acoustic guitar player, while Repeat rounded them out on drums. Granted, Repeat wasn't his real moniker but was, instead, a nickname he had earned from Stephanie after she noticed he often clung to Pete like glue and shared the same opinions on most subjects. The fact that the elder man's name was Pete played right into her creative hands because it allowed her to craft what most everyone else in the band deemed a superbly accurate nickname. Repeat, whose given name was Jordan, was the youngest of the group, at just 19 years old, and was Stephanie's junior by an entire decade.

Stephanie was second to oldest but preferred to think of herself as the most seasoned of the group. She was the only female, and the way she saw it, her gender was typically the most advanced in just about every sense of the word, so it made sense she would be the most judicious. Smiling to herself at that thought, she made a break for her dressing room to grab the scant belongings she actually brought into the venue with her. Most of her property stayed on their tour bus while they played, but there were a few necessities that always tagged along with her in case of an emergency, and those were what she was after.

Nudging the door of her assigned room open and treading into the dim light, Stephanie reached for her performance bag which, in actuality, was a plain duffel bag she had picked up at Target, and slung the strap over her shoulder. Unlike the guys, who moved around and used the bulk of the stage as their running grounds during a performance, Stephanie often settled in the same spot while she belted out the lyrics, preferring to have an intense, methodical poise. Though she didn't scamper around the way the guys did, her lack of movement often won her the most attention from the crowd because, if nothing else, they kept an eye on her in hopes she might throw a curve ball their way. There was a common assumption she _might_ bustle to action or do something out of her nature, and that's why she was supremely revered in the music world.

The fans were marionettes, the band their puppet masters, as they controlled them on strings and molded them into what they deemed the ideal follower, which was a skill that had taken them years to perfect. The door of Stephanie's dressing room opened into the hallway as she stepped out with her bag over her shoulder and began searching for the exit door, which would lead her back to the awaiting tour bus so she could wait there for the boys. In the midst of her search, Stephanie's thoughts reverted to their days as teenagers, playing only covers of the bands who happened to be the object of their affections at that particular time. They started on a whim as a run-of-the-mill garage band and, after countless quarrels over their alias, agreed on Starrstruk, which was a namesake that had stuck and earned them global recognition.

Just as Stephanie placed the earbuds of her iPod into her ears and cranked her chosen tune to breakneck levels, a loyal pair of fans who had scored backstage passes as the result of winning a radio contest had fallen in step behind her down the stretched hallway. Both men came to a standstill at once, in what could only be described as a nervous pause, with their eyes fixed on the retreating figure of a woman whose career they had followed for what felt like an eternity. After a few missed opportunities to meet her, Stephanie was finally within reach, and they had no clue what to do with that knowledge. One of the men reached out blindly and rained a series of frantic finger taps down on his cousin's arm.

"Dude, that's her. That's fucking _her_!" he hissed.

"I can see that," Chad snickered and pushed his hand away to avoid any further assault from the flurried finger-poking he was falling victim to. "Why is she leaving if there are people with backstage passes waiting to meet her? We can't be the only ones."

"I don't know, maybe we are," Chris shrugged without peeling his eyes away from her. The further Stephanie made it down the hallway, the more frantic his urges to catch up to her, and with that, he began jogging as he cupped his mouth with both hands. "Hey, wait up!" he shouted.

"Are you crazy?" Chad called after him, though his response was punctuated with a hearty bit of laughter. "You could at least try to play it cool instead of acting like she's the first celebrity we've ever seen in our lives."

"But she _is_ the first celebrity we've ever seen in person," he pointed out as Chad's words brought him to a brief standstill.

"Oh, yeah...I guess you got me there."

"We're gonna lose her if we don't run," Chris told him, and when Chad held up a steadying hand, he waved him off. "Forget you. Stay back here if you want, but I'm going after her. I came to meet Starrstruk, and that's what I'm gonna do."

Chris broke into a run but not the psychotic type of sprint that would lead Stephanie to conclude he was an escaped mental patient if she so happened to turn around and see him. He knew better than to make an ass out of himself, so he kept a steady but calm pace — one in which he would be able to catch her before she escaped through the doors, and in doing so, the laminated backstage pass that bore his name slapped against the front of his shirt with each rushed stride. Determining he had nothing left to lose, Chris cupped his mouth and called her name again. The final image he saw before he felt the impact of a solid, muscular arm being thrust directly into his path was a dressing room door opening a few feet in front of him.

"Who the fuck are you and what do you think you're doing?" a menacing voice barked in his ear, and Chris let out an internal groan when he caught Stephanie in his peripheral vision, exiting the door that would lead her out to the parking lot.

There went his chance to meet her _again_.

"Hey, hey, hey, take it easy here," Chad came upon the scene with his hands up and guarding himself before he thought to raise his backstage pass and flash it to the man who still held Chris in what could only be described as a modified headlock of some sort. "We have backstage passes, and we were just trying to meet you guys. Can you let my cousin go?"

"What are you yelling at Stephanie about? I heard it from all the way in my dressing room," Pete demanded. It was a surreal moment for Chad to be engaging in a spontaneous discussion with someone whose CD's were a mainstay in his home collection and a part of the regular rotation in his three-disk CD player.

"He wasn't yelling at her in a threatening way, or, at least, that's not how he meant it," Chad explained. "We have backstage passes and were coming to meet you guys, so when we saw Stephanie walking down the hallway, he tried to stop her. That's all it was, so could you please let him go now?"

Pete eased his menacing grip on Chris, still a tad wary, until finally releasing him the remainder of the way. The swift cessation of a combative arm around his throat was met with coughs and wheezing from Chris, as the color began to rush back to his cheeks and tint them rose. If he hadn't still been in the process of catching his breath, Chris likely would have found the entire scene amusing and, in time, he foresaw it as a story he'd tell many times over. "Sorry, man, we really were just trying to meet you guys."

"Nah, it's cool," Pete waved him off as he glanced down at the backstage pass hanging from Chris's neck. "Sometimes I can be a little overprotective of my crew, but they're my family and I've gotta watch out for 'em, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that," Chris nodded, still rubbing at his throat when Jordan stepped out of his room, clad in only a white towel that had been tied snugly around his waist.

"What's going on out here? I heard a commotion," Jordan said as his gaze darted between everyone, and it was the third time that night Chris had been in absolute awe of one of his metal heroes. Chris had toyed around with the idea of playing the drums back when he was younger and still had his garage band to speak of, and watching Jordan do his thing onstage had been an honor. Chris took a tentative step back while rubbing his dampened palms on the front of his jeans.

"Holy shit, you were awesome tonight, man. You always are," Chris told him.

"Thanks, and I don't mean to be rude, but who the hell are ya?"

"I'm Chris, and this is my cousin Chad," he pointed out before holding his pass up, much in the same way Chad had done to pull him out of hot water a short while earlier. "We've got backstage passes and wanted to meet you guys."

"Yeah," Pete added as he turned to Jordan and motioned in their direction, "I almost choked the dude out because I thought he was some crazy guy after Steph or something. Turns out he's just a regular guy wanting to hang with the group. Go get dressed and I'll handle this."

"Cool," Jordan snuck back in his dressing room, and Chris's eager gaze scoured the hall.

"So is Jack around anywhere tonight or did he already leave?" Chris requested. "He was kickass tonight, as were you."

"I love that I was just an afterthought in that compliment," Pete quipped as he ran a hand over his flowing, raven hair and used that same hand to smooth his beard. "He's around somewhere, probably still in the shower. You're really okay from earlier, right? I didn't mean to be too harsh, but I'm the type of guy to act first and ask questions later."

"No, I'm fine," Chris waved his concern off before adding, "Besides, how many people can say they were almost choked out by Pete from Starrstruk. It's an honor," he bantered as they all shared another laugh.

"You guys seem like you're on the up-and-up, so if you want to go out and meet Stephanie, I can take you to our tour bus," Pete offered.

"She didn't seem like she wanted to be bothered. I called her name a bunch of times and she wasn't really answering. I don't even think she looked back at me," Chris squinted as he tried to remember every nuance she expressed in the brief amount of time he'd been awarded the gift of her presence.

Pete laughed and grasped his chin in his right hand, "She listens to music when she leaves the buildings, so she probably had it cranked too loud and couldn't hear you. It's one of the things I'm always telling her not to do, because it's dangerous to walk outside to the tour bus and not be able to hear if somebody's coming up behind her, but she doesn't ever listen to me. I think she gets some sort of pleasure out of doing the exact opposite of whatever I say. She wants to show me who's boss or whatever, you know women," he joked.

"I know women very well," Chad nodded before nudging Chris and pointing at him, "but Chris here? Not so much."

"Shut the hell up," Chris smacked his hand away and fought to swallow the bitter taste forming in his throat and threatening to force its way into his mouth.

"You ain't got a woman?" Pete inquired.

"Not right now."

"Or _ever_..." Chad egged on, his harsh teasing being met with another dirty look from Chris. "Come on, man, I was just kidding around."

"Me and the boys are pros at pickin' up chicks. You could come hang with us tonight," Pete proposed and was thoroughly amused to find the eyebrows of both Chad and Chris raised in shock. All bickering between them came to a screeching halt as they marveled over the golden opportunity to hang with one of their favorites bands of all time, and as shaky as their time backstage had started out, it appeared the good vibes was only just beginning. "I'm serious. If you want to wait back here for a minute, I can round up the guys and we'll go out to the bus. We were just about to grab some food anyways, and sometimes it can be fun to hang with some of our biggest fans. You _are_ our biggest fans, right?" he laughed.

"Trust me, we are," Chad acknowledged. "I've seen some people online say they got to hang with the band when they met you at a show. They said you sat down with them for dinner and beers, but I never would have believed it until now."

"We're a fan-friendly band, given that we don't think you're attacking our female lead vocalist," Pete smirked at Chris to make his point, and they all fell into nonchalant laughter once more. "Wait right here, we'll be done in a minute and we can head out."

Pete disappeared into his dressing room, and Chris stood next to Chad with baited breath.

The opportunity to meet his musical heroes had befallen them, and they was going to milk it for all it was worth.

_Rise. _

Stephanie's faculties were heightened by the exhilarating surge that could come only from the cheers of the fans, as a security guard led her for a few feet to the door of her tour bus. Their driver, Dane, was already inside, and she greeted him with a mirthful smile as he closed the bus door behind her and canceled out the exuberant cries of the fans just beyond the confines of her shelter.

_Rush. _

After dumping her bag near the kitchen area of their extensively decorated tour bus, Stephanie leaned against the small table they often ate around as a group and steadied herself with deliberate breathing techniques she had learned in yoga that were designed, specifically, to act as a form of meditation. The urgent flow of blood pumping through her veins began to normalize as her heartbeat returned to normal and she fell from the final remnants of her adrenaline rush.

_Crash._

Stumbling her way back to the fold-out beds, Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief at the sheer sight of hers and plopped onto it. With her iPod still going strong, although she had lowered the volume of the music after stepping onto the bus, she rolled onto her back and closed her eyes as the pulsating beat droned on. Her stomach grumbled its request for nourishment, and her final thought before dozing off was that she hoped the guys would pick up their pace so they could go out for dinner.

"Stephazoid!" someone hissed near her bunk.

Stephanie's eyes snapped open and darted around the space, but it was all for naught, since someone had taken it upon themselves to turn out the lights during her brief nap. With no clock nearby, she had no clue what time it was or how long she had been asleep, but the silhouette of a man engulfed her doorway, and they whispered her name for a second time. She wasn't entirely sure if the racket emanating from the front of the bus was the offending noise that disturbed her sleep or if it was the person in her immediate space but, either way, irritation set in just as it always did with Stephanie whenever her dozing was interrupted. She groaned and tossed an arm over her eyes, which was met with the return of the lights as the switch was turned on.

"What are you doing?" she challenged after managing to peel her arm away from her face.

"Trying to get you up. You've been out for the past half hour, but you've gotta get up," Jordan told her. He stepped up to the side of the bed and patted her shoes to signify he wanted her to move her feet and clear a spot for him to sit. When Stephanie raised them, he lowered himself on the edge of the bed and glanced up at her. "These two guys got backstage passes to meet us, but wait until you hear the story of what happened when they tried to meet you."

"Nobody tried to meet me tonight," she frowned.

"They did, you just don't know it yet. Anyways, those guys are hanging with us since Pete invited them to grab dinner, so come on. We're almost at the restaurant."

"Good, I need food. Thanks, Repeat," Stephanie replied as she felt the familiar pangs of hunger in her stomach and remembered how much she had been craving a hearty dinner before falling away into her dreamland.

Nobody cooked the way her mom did, but when she was on the road, settling for a nice restaurant meal was the best they could manage. Sitting upright, Stephanie paused to stretch her arms and release a yawn before following Jordan out of the back room and towards the front of the bus. From what she could see, everyone had a bottle of beer in hand, and she unconsciously rolled her eyes at the thought of how nonsensically they behaved whenever they were drunk. Pete happened to catch sight of her and his eyes lit up.

"There you are! We've got some people here who want to meet you," he explained.

"So I've heard," Stephanie acknowledged. She plodded on, searching around for the new faces of whomever had been invited onto their tour bus when her shoe came into contact with a stationary object in the middle of the bus aisle. It only took a split second for her to glance down and see that it was someone else's foot stretched out in her direct path, and just as she began tipping over, Stephanie thought to herself that the person at fault was going to receive a major talking to.

As she anticipated the end result, her heartbeat hastened in preparation for what would most certainly be a disastrous landing.

_Rise. _

Clamping her eyes shut, she resigned the outcome to fate and allowed it to take her where it may.

_Rush. _

The impact hadn't been as severe as expected when she toppled into an awaiting lap, and Stephanie found herself peeking up at the most serene pair of blue eyes she had ever witnessed.

_Crash. _


	2. Taking a Ride

Chris and Stephanie were frozen in the form of a masterful piece of artwork, indicative on the great Da Vinci. For that block of time, the world ceased to exist as they locked eyes and remained huddled in their unexpected embrace. Chris held her by the waist while she squeezed his biceps in her hands and blinked repeatedly because, apparently, her eyelids were the only part of her body still able to function in the presence of such a handsome man. His stunted rushes of breath flowed downward and fluttered against her cleavage, which was proudly on display in the leather corset she had worn onstage.

Still adorned in fairly heavy performance makeup, some specs of Stephanie's sky blue eyeshadow had fallen from her lids and sprinkled onto her lashes, as if some sort of rock star fairy dust. Chris had seen her a number of times on television, posters, and CD covers, but there wasn't a single image of her floating around in public that did her justice. Her lips were pressed together in a half-pout sort of way, and a strand of her tousled hair had fallen into her face. Before she had time to react, Chris touched his fingertips to her forehead, slid them down her upper cheek, and brushed the hair away.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His words snapped Stephanie out of her trance and served as a reminder that she couldn't lose her cool. No matter how laid-back the atmosphere, she was an entertainer and, as such, couldn't lose her bearings just because a nice-looking guy was in the room. When traveling the world as often as she did, it was a common theme to run into men who ignited a sensual passion inside of her, which meant she couldn't fall all over herself for a regular old fan.

"I'm fine," she replied, pushing off one of the seat cushions to lift herself back into a standing position. When she glanced around, everyone was eyeballing them in an odd sort of way, as if they had just witnessed some sort of profound moment. Jordan still hadn't taken his seat after walking her to the front of the bus, so she grabbed his hand and led him to a free spot, where she plopped down and he followed suit. "So what's up, guys? What restaurant are we stopping at?"

"There's a really cool Greek place in the area. We haven't been there before, but I thought we might check it out," Pete explained before launching himself back into an engrossing conversation with Chris and Chad about his first guitar. Stephanie leaned back against one of the cabinets and stole a few glances in Chris's direction when he didn't appear to be paying attention.

The man was alluring, if nothing else.

His awkward charm was tempting her in all the right ways.

The difference a couple of hours could make was astounding, and with the music bumping in the background and drinks flowing freely, there was plenty of disarray to go around. Dinner was completed and the follow up to that had been to get trashed inside a nightclub. Chris and Chad were headbanging to a song that wasn't even rock and gave off a more techno vibe, while Stephanie remained sandwiched between Pete and Jordan, closing her eyes as she danced along to the thumping beat. Jack brought up the rear, drink sloshing around the glass in his hand, as he found his rhythm and swayed to the beat. When some of the liquid from his glass happened to splatter on Stephanie's ankle, her eyes snapped open, and that was when she took notice of the man across from her.

He struck a nerve from the second she fell into his lap, but when the club lights spilled over him, Stephanie was taken by his image once more. His facial features were sharp and handsome, and his expertly toned and muscular body put the cherry on top of what she had already deemed to be a supreme package. Had her intoxicated state not nudged its way in and started causing her to see double, she might have actually found the courage to walk up and talk to him. Still, never one to turn down a challenge, Stephanie went for it anyway, sliding one foot in front of the other and promptly shifting too far sideways and losing her balance.

Time slowed to a crawl, each pulsating beat of the music and flicker of the lights burning its image into her brain as she began the descent. Stephanie's hands shot out in front of her and, on instinct, she let go of her glass and watched it crash to the floor and crack into a million tiny pieces. Pete's arm darted out in a comically delayed attempt to catch her and, while Stephanie appreciated the gesture, it wasn't going to do much good. She braced herself for impact and a gaggle of grinding bodies was the final image emblazoned in her mind before she landed, with a thud. For the next minute, the happenings in her world were relayed through a series of brief flashes.

_Flash!_

An unidentified person asked if she was okay before a hand ran over her hair, while the person it belonged to pleaded in her ear to let them know she was all right.

_Fade away. _

The stuffy club air was replaced with the cool outdoors, as Stephanie found herself staring straight up into the starry night sky, the twinkle of constellations reflecting in the pool of her ashen blue eyes.

_Fading still. _

Her next arrival to alertness was brought about from a shoulder shake, but the hand moved across her collarbone and came to a rest against her left cheek. It was a warm hand, and the sensation penetrated her entire body, wrapping her inside an imaginary cocoon. Stephanie detected it was a man's hand, and she smiled before slipping away once more.

_Fading..._

"Stephanie, we're stranded!" someone yelled in her ear, and she had to resist the urge not to reach out and blindly start punching towards whoever it was. She wasn't normally a violent person but didn't take too well to people screaming nonsense in her ear, especially not when she was contending with such a powerful headache. The previous events came flooding back to her and, after remembering the fall, Stephanie assumed she had consumed one too many drinks and blacked out. For being drunk, she was decently alert, so she opened her eyes and blinked into the same face she admired earlier that night.

It was _him_.

Bringing her hand up to her throbbing temple, she croaked out, "We have _got_ to stop meeting this way. You're like my bad luck charm or something."

"We're stuck here, they left us! Starrstruk left us!" he screamed like a madman, and all she could do was frown and wonder what in God's name he was on about. There was no way the guys would have left in the tour bus without her, and even if they got inside and told the driver to go, surely he would have noticed she wasn't along for the ride. Dane was the most phenomenal bus driver she could have hoped for and wouldn't have gone anywhere without seeing her to safety and, yet, she lifted her head and found only an empty spot where the bus had been parked.

Feeling the fuzzy feeling washing over her once more and knowing an impending sleep she wouldn't be able to fend off was approaching, Stephanie reached for Chris's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Get us a cab, okay? Just get us a cab." Those were her last words before she fell into the abyss for the final time.

"Stephanie, no!" Chris moaned as he watched her eyelids flutter before she fell back into a deep sleep. She was done for the night and, even though he was inebriated, Chris was the only person left to make sure the final outcome of their night wasn't a complete disaster. He lifted her into a sitting position from the ledge she had been placed on by the good Samaritan who carried her out of the club and groaned. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Chris remained cool and collected under normal circumstances, but when he was drunk, all usual personality traits flew right out the window. He became irrational, panicky, and just an all-around unreliable person once too much alcohol entered his system. He couldn't consider the night a _total_ failure, considering he was enjoying the opportunity to hang out with the hot lead vocalist for Starrstruk. Without intending for his gaze to shift so suddenly, Chris was drawn to her supple cleavage and fought the urge to touch her face again.

Something about being close to her felt right, in a way he wasn't quite sure how to explain. It was the first time he had ever felt so connected to someone he had only just met, but Chris wanted to be her friend. Their meeting couldn't end without him acquiring some way to contact her personally in the future. Depending on her handlers to pass his messages on wasn't good enough, and he resigned himself to requesting her phone number whenever the time came that she woke up. His next plan was to figure out where they would be staying for the night.

Chris had seen the rest of Starrstruk loading onto the bus but was certain they wouldn't actually leave before he had a chance to help Stephanie on board. His misjudgment of that fact was simply one of the many consequences of too much alcohol, and they had nobody to blame but themselves. It was becoming a blessing in disguise to Chris, because his entire night began on the basis of meeting the band and talking to Stephanie, and here she was right beside, albeit unconscious. His options were to call a cab or walk to a place and carry Stephanie, but he didn't have enough cash on him for cab fare _and_ a hotel room for the night, so neither of those ideas sufficed.

His instincts told him Option B would entail wrangling up a ride from a fellow patron, but that wouldn't be an easy feat, since nobody they happened to know was still around. That was the first time it occurred to Chris that his own cousin had left him behind, and he almost reached the point of anger until glancing down at Stephanie and remembering why he had gotten the better end of the deal. If everyone wanted to leave him alone with his assumed dream girl, that was a reward he was more than willing to reap the benefits of. However, first things were first, and the best idea he could come up with in his impaired state was to jog to the main road, while keeping a close eye on Stephanie, and stick his thumb out.

Yes, hitchhiking was the pinnacle of his brilliance that evening.

For everything that could potentially go wrong, Chris had an opposing argument for how it could go right, and he split his time between sending glances Stephanie's way and watching for cars. For a long while, it didn't seem anyone was willing to take the bait, and he began to lose hope. Just before Chris was ready to throw the towel in and come up with something different, a passing motorist slowed to a stop at the side of the road, and he heard the click of their automatic door locks. Chris jogged to where they were, still careful to glance over his shoulder at Stephanie, and grabbed the door handle when the driver leaned over to push it open.

"Thanks for stopping," Chris scratched his head, not knowing how else to react since he hadn't ever made it a point to hitch a ride with a total stranger before.

"Yeah, no problem, I'm headed out to the highway anyway," the guy, presumably 20-something, responded. "Where do you need to go?"

"I gotta get outta here," Chris explained, "I've got Stephanie from Starrstruk with me and our guys accidentally left us. We need a ride just...I don't know, wherever."

The guy flipped some intrusive locks of platinum blond hair away from his face and signaled to the backseat. "You can grab her and get in if you want."

"Thanks, I'll be right back," Chris said. He attempted to jog back to Stephanie, but after a stumble and sudden bout of dizziness, he slowed to a crawl. It was better to reach her in one piece than to faceplant in the center of the club's parking lot. The same guy who carried Stephanie out was checking on her by the time he got back, but Chris assured him they were fine and hoisted her up in his arms. "Hold onto my neck," he directed, but she was out cold and didn't register a single word. When he opened the car door and began sliding her into the backseat, the guy in front covered his mouth in shock.

"Holy shit, dude! That's Stephanie from Starrstruk!" he shouted.

"I told you," Chris said, rubbing his forehead and wincing at the other man's volume. He got into the car beside her and shut the door before slapping the back of the passenger seat. "Let's go!" he shouted in a tone playful enough that the guy wouldn't think he was asking for a favor and then being a complete jerk about it.

"I can't believe I have her in my car. Wait 'til my friends find out, dude. Can I get a picture of her?" he asked, already starting to hold his cell phone up, but Chris blocked it with his hand. He was instinctively protective of Stephanie without even knowing why.

"No, she's sleeping. Not now," Chris unzipped his sweater and placed it over Stephanie's top half before resting his head near hers and closing his eyes.

"All right, later then," the guy answered. He put his phone away and put the car in gear before checking back on them in the rearview mirror. "So where do you guys need to go? I can take Stephanie anywhere," he said, leaving no room for doubting how taken he was with her.

"Then take us anywhere," Chris answered, already nodding off next to Stephanie.

"But I'm headed out of state, so if you need to be somewhere in town —"

"Anywhere. Just take us...take us...wherever you're going..." Chris managed to get out before giving in to his drowsiness and falling into a deep slumber. The driver turned to find them conked out next to one another and shrugged before pulling back onto the road and heading for his original destination. Being that he picked them up in front of a club and both of them were incessantly tired, he inferred they were fairly drunk, and it gave him a funny feeling to actually take them out of state, but he asked more than once and the other man had told him to take them anywhere at least twice. Turning his music down so it wouldn't be too disruptive to their sleep, he traveled towards the city that was his aim.

They were headed for Las Vegas.


	3. It All Comes Together

The robotic drone of a car engine butted into Stephanie's dreams, as she ran a hand over her nose and sniffled, not bothering to open her eyes. A warm body was pressed against hers, one she could only assume was whichever man she had convinced to leave the club with her and settle into her bunker on the tour bus the night before. While she wasn't one for repeated acts of promiscuity, she did, on occasion, put out if a guy was her type and gave off a good vibe. It was reckless and foolish, and her parents would undoubtedly have nailed her to the cross for such behavior, but what they didn't know couldn't hurt them, and there was no way she was telling on herself.

Reaching a single hand out, Stephanie surveyed her neighbor in sleep, running her hands over what she assumed to be a man's back and shoulders. He groaned and shifted, and when her fingers located the warm flesh of the mystery man's neck, she curled them around his stiff muscles and began a blind massage. A smirk spread across her face when the first moan swept past his lips, because she liked having the innate ability to please a man, even when she was half-asleep. There was a unique satisfaction to be found in working a man so well that he purred like a kitten at her touch, and the fact that she was a national superstar only helped to reel men of her choosing in at her eager behest.

When the vehicle slowed to a crawl, Stephanie shielded her eyes to block a surge of sunlight filtering in through the windows. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she studied her surroundings only long enough to realize she wasn't sleeping in her tour bus and being driven by Dane. She was in a vehicle with a man she didn't immediately recognize, but, then again, she only had a view of the back of his head. His hair was a sunny blond shade and so unlike any of the men she had come to know and love in her band, so it couldn't have been any of them. There was only a span of a few seconds between realizing she was in unfamiliar territory and wondering whose back she was rubbing.

Shooting up in her seat, her eyes trickled down to Chris's sleeping form and she let out a loud gasp that cut through the silence, save for the low volume of the radio. Two new sets of eyes were on her as the man driving glanced back and Chris forced his eyes open, wondering who the noise had come from. As soon as she found herself staring into the blue sea of his pupils, she recognized him as the Starrstruk fan she had a slight run-in with on the bus the night before. The only thing left to piece together was why they were in a car with another man she had never seen in her life, which begged the even greater question of where her bandmates were. They never would have voluntarily left her alone inside a car of people she had no real relationship with, and when she saw them again, they would get a real piece of her mind for failing her.

"What the hell?" she whispered, bringing a hand to her head and massaging her aching temple with two fingers. She gazed around at the heavy, standstill traffic and bright lights, spotting a series of lit billboards and casinos, which meant she could only be in one place. "Las Vegas?"

"Isn't it awesome?" the man driving the car grinned as he watched her in his rearview mirror.

"Who the hell are you?" Stephanie asked. She normally made an effort to be as kind as possible when conducting herself in public, but her fear of waking up somewhere unexpected, in addition to not having her friends around, was working her nerves in the worst way possible. The level of aggravation she felt was too high for even a steaming cup of coffee to cure on its own, which was her go-to drink upon waking each morning. "Why am I here? Why are any of us here, and how did I get in your car?"

"I'm Tucker, and you're here because your friend waved me down. He's the one who put you in the car. Can I get a picture with you now?" he finished, and Stephanie served up only a scoff as she rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Chris. He was beginning to stir, having overheard their conversation, and groaned while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Where are we?" Chris quizzed.

"Obviously in Las Vegas!" Stephanie snapped, running a hand through her hair before sighing. "I'm sorry. I'm just cranky because I don't know what's going on or how I got here, but I shouldn't be taking it out on you. If anything, it's my fault for getting so wasted."

"Why the hell did you drive us to _Vegas_?" Chris yelled, practically lunging for Tucker. Stephanie reached out and brought him to an abrupt stop as they remained unmoving in what was sluggish traffic with no clear end in sight. "I asked for a ride across town. Not to some city we don't even know our way around in!"

"Speak for yourself. I've played here plenty of times," Stephanie chimed in, shrugging when he turned his baby blues on her. "I'm just sayin'..."

"Well, please don't. Don't say anything at all," Chris suggested, his focus darting wildly as he scanned the surrounding area and gauged whether or not a reasonable solution was within reach. His memory of what happened the night before was fuzzy, but he couldn't imagine he ever would have agreed to a drive completely out of state. He had no clue where his cousin was and, moreover, he couldn't find his cell phone anywhere. There was no telling if he had dropped it inside the club they were at or somewhere on the streets, but, either way, it wasn't in his possession. "Dude, why the hell would you take it upon yourself to drive us all the way here without our consent?"

"I had your consent," Tucker frowned, pulling his sunglasses off as he glanced into the backseat. "You waved me down outside of the club and said you needed a ride. I asked where to, and you said to bring you wherever I was going. This was where I was headed."

"You couldn't have told me that before you actually drove us all the way here?" Chris asked.

"I tried, but you guys seemed drunk and fell asleep before I could do anything else," Tucker said, shifting his gaze to Stephanie and lifting his cell phone. "Can I take a picture with you now? I want to show my friends that I met you."

The growl from Stephanie's throat was answer enough as she tossed her hands up in frustration and thrust the car door open. "That does it!" she shouted, storming out of the car altogether.

It wasn't until she was already bolting across traffic on the multi-lane road that Chris willed his legs to action and dashed out of the car after her, leaving Tucker with not a single word as he shut the door and ran after Stephanie. He couldn't blame her for being frustrated with the persistence of the kid, and especially when he had taken it upon himself to bring them along on an unscheduled road trip of sorts, which he should have had the common sense to realize was taking it too far. Still, if Chris and Stephanie had been completely sober, they wouldn't have found themselves in such a mess as it was, and he recognized the role he played in their ruined night of fun as he swooped in behind Stephanie. She stomped along the sidewalk with crossed arms, still wearing her club clothing.

Funny enough, her morning attire fit right in with the dressings of most of the locals, and no one seemed to even notice her slight fashion flub, as if it was just another day in the city for a woman in a tight dress, high heels, and smeared makeup to be storming down the sidewalk. Only when Chris caught sight of a bag swinging from her wrist, the clutch she had brought to the club the night before, did he relax. If she still had her purse, that must have meant she was carrying a cell phone, and, more importantly, enough money to get them back home. Although, if she decided not to pay for Chris, he was going to be stranded until his poor cousin found out where he was and took enough pity on him to send enough funds to help.

"Uh, Stephanie," Chris called out. For the first time since meeting her, the softness in her attitude was gone, and he actually found himself nearly cowering in her presence. She was a strong force when angered, and he didn't want to be responsible for saying anything that would set her off. "Do you have a phone I can use?"

She said nothing and continued her brisk walk, and even though he felt like an idiot doing it, Chris followed after her. He had no one else to depend on, in a city he knew little about, and she was his only lifeline, so he couldn't let her go without trying. If she wasn't in the mood to talk, he was willing to give her some space, so he fell back behind her, keeping a close eye as she navigated through the odd throngs of people they passed. From the sun's position in the sky, Chris gathered it was only somewhere around seven or eight in the morning, but he had no way of being certain.

The further they traveled, the more he realized being trapped in Las Vegas was akin to being stuck in a real-life board game. Everything was lit and flashing, car horns were honking, voices were screeching, and it was impossible to keep both eyes on all the action at once, because it seemed something different was going on in every direction. Stephanie's heels produced a clipped beat as they came into rough contact with the pavement, and she cut off in a diagonal direction that led her straight up to the door of a McDonald's, with an erratically blinking golden arch circling above it. She thrust the door open and Chris followed in behind her, thinking she had forgotten all about his poor existence.

It became clear soon after that he was wrong in assuming such a thing, as Stephanie stepped forward, only a couple of feet from the front counter, and turned to check on him. "I'm hungry. Do you want anything?"

"I don't have any money. I think my cousin has my wallet and phone," he said, trying to do the noble thing and not assume she was paying for him, despite the fact that, inside, he was absolutely hoping she would.

"I've got you covered," she waved him off. "Seriously, do you want something? Hurry, or I'll order without you."

Chris checked out the menu board for around half a minute before relaying the number of the combo breakfast meal that best met his needs, and Stephanie stepped up to the counter and ordered for each of them. Pulling an American Express card from her clutch, she swiped it across the card slot on the payment machine and received a receipt, which she promptly brought along and motioned for Chris to follow as she took a seat at a nearby table. She folded the receipt, muttering to herself, "If they don't hurry with my coffee, I'm going to hurt somebody. I'm so cranky before breakfast."

Chris smiled softly, fiddling with his hands. "I'm, uh, really sorry about this whole thing. I did put you in that guy's car and get in after, but I thought he was giving us a ride to catch up with your tour bus since the guys left us behind. I'm not sure how I thought he would magically know where to find the tour bus, but I guess that's what happens when you're drunk."

"Yeah, so was I. It's not your fault, and it's really not even that big a deal," Stephanie shrugged, pinching the eyelashes of her right eye between two fingers and shuddering in disgust when she pulled away a clump of mascara. She reached for the napkin dispenser on their table and pulled a couple out, wiping the mess from her fingers. "I can find a way for you to get back home. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm annoyed as hell, but we'll be fine. Let's just eat, and we'll worry about everything else in a minute."

"Okay," Chris agreed.

When the number on their receipt was called, he walked up with Stephanie to grab their respective trays, and they brought them to a booth near the back of the restaurant and dug in. There wasn't as much chatter as Chris would have liked, being in the presence of the lead singer he'd followed for so long. Somewhere along the way, between waking up in a car with her and following her into a fast food joint, she stopped feeling like a celebrity and started feeling like a normal person. She reminded him of plenty of female friends he'd made back home, and the familiarity was refreshing, to say the least.

A couple of times, she reached up to move the blinds covering the window and squinted out at the traffic, the speed of which had picked up tremendously since they had bolted from Tucker's car. Chris felt a pang of regret, and even some guilt, when he thought back to the kid. He had given them a ride like they asked, and they hadn't compensated him with part of the gas money or anything else. At least he would have an interesting story to tell all of his friends when he returned home. Stephanie munched idly on a hash brown while taking large gulps of her sweetened coffee between bites.

"Thanks for breakfast," Chris slipped out.

Her expression softened. "You're welcome. I'm sorry your night with me and the guys didn't go better than this. You probably think we're the biggest bunch of screw-ups ever."

"Nah, I don't think that at all," he shook his head. "Shit happens, you know? Besides, you guys are fun as hell to party with, and you even gave me a run for my money on the liquor, which doesn't happen very often. Usually, when I'm hanging out with friends, I'm the one who drinks everyone under the table."

"Yeah?" Stephanie asked, sizing him up. "I didn't take you for much of a drinker."

"Why not?" he wondered, taking a bite of the scrambled eggs on his tray.

"Too pretty."

"What do you mean?"

"Usually regular drinkers _look_ like drinkers, if you know what I'm mean."

"Oh, so I'm just a pretty boy?" he asked, eyebrows raising as he smirked.

"Exactly. I never would have guessed you drink a lot, because it doesn't show."

"Well, you were hammered last night, and I could tell it wasn't the first time you've done that, but you're still pretty."

"Maybe we've just got really good pretty genes," she surmised. They each fell into laughter before enjoying the remainder of their meal in a relaxed silence. Chris was first to finish, tossing his balled up napkin in the middle of his tray before bringing it to the nearest trash can and dumping it inside. He rejoined Stephanie at the table, shifting his focus to the happenings outside their window view and not making the effort to do much else until Stephanie finished and he dumped her trash as well.

"I would ask what we're going to do now, but I'm not sure I want to know," Chris teased. "Are you hanging in Vegas today or...actually, for all I know, you don't want me following you around. I'll call my cousin and have him pick me up or something."

"You'll do no such thing," Stephanie ordered. She stood from the table and readjusted her dress before linking arms with Chris and holding her clutch in the other hand. After exiting the restaurant, a mischievous gleam formed in Stephanie's eyes, and her upper lip curled before she let him in on her plans. "I say it's time for a road trip that we actually _want_ to go on."

"Didn't we sort of just have one and hate it?"

"Yeah, but this one will be different."

"How so?" he asked, gliding with her easy steps as they continued down the road. She pulled her cell phone out of her purse in a swift motion, ignoring the miss calls for the time being.

"Well, for one, we'll actually be awake and sober. Secondly, we'll have our own car, and who knows what kind of trouble we can find on the way back. It doesn't have to be a straight shot back home, you know. We can look around, stop off at roadside exhibits, whatever we feel like. The guys left us, so we can take our sweet time getting back to them. They'll see us again, if they're lucky," she jested.

"You actually want to go on a road trip with me?"

"Why not?" she shrugged. "I hear you're a huge fan of mine, so I can't think of a better way to spend the next...however many hours this ends up being than with someone who appreciates me," she laughed.

"I guess we're all set then."

She pulled him towards a shaded bench area where the could stop long enough for her to call the taxi that would shuttle them to a rental car facility, and then the real fun would begin. After taking their seats, Stephanie's arm remained locked inside Chris's, and he was halfway tempted to pinch himself to make sure what he thought was reality was actually coming true. He never would have foreseen, in his wildest dreams, a chance to spend private time with Stephanie, and he intended to come out of it making a lifelong friend. Whether or not his hopes came to fruition remained to be seen, but he was a dreamer, so it was in his nature to look on the bright side.

Chris listened in absently as she provided all the information needed for the taxi cab to pick them up. After disconnecting from the call, a thought came to Chris that he couldn't let go of without getting an answer to. "Hey, tell me something."

"Sure," Stephanie replied.

"How did you get up this morning and not have a hangover?"

"Oh, it's a trick I picked up on after years of partying," she said. He nodded, wanting to know more, so she continued. "See, it's this thing I do where I mix half of the alcohol with half a cup of water, and that way you can still get drunk, but without the hangover that comes with it. The reason you get the horrible headache is because of dehydration, but when you mix the stuff with water, you're basically fine."

"You are not going to believe this."

"What?"

"I swear I do that back home all the time," he said. "My drink of choice is vodka, so I mix it with water and never have hangovers anymore. I was trying to see if you found some other way to do it that I didn't know about, but turns out great minds think alike, huh?" he asked, tapping his temple.

"I think we've just proven that," she agreed, her smile faltering when she focused in on him. "Those things get me every time."

"What does?" Chris wondered.

"Your eyes."

"Do they?"

"They're captivating," she said. "I guess it's a good thing I'll be seeing so much of them."

"I guess so," he laughed.

Her eyes were stunning in their own right, but he didn't want to lay it on too thick when they were still learning about each other. Though on friendly terms, they were still essentially strangers, but a road trip would change that, hopefully in a permanent way. Stephanie seemed open to forming a friendship with him, and it wasn't something he would shy away from if the possibility arose. The pair lost themselves in the rowdy noises of the city, growing louder the later it got into the morning, as the streets became more crowded and passers-by grew more frequent.

It took the cab longer to arrive than they would have liked, and Chris estimated the wait to be around 35 minutes, but he no longer cared when he was finally climbing into the air-conditioned back seat of the vehicle as Stephanie rattled off directions like they were written on the back of her hand. Apparently, she really did know her way around Vegas. As the driver pulled away from the curb and began navigating through town, Chris could only think of one thing to say. "I'm definitely moving my favorite song of yours to the number one spot on my iPod playlist."

"And which playlist would that be?" she asked, playing along.

"My playlist of best lead vocalists ever."

"I like the sound of that," she purred, patting his leg as they traveled down the road.

_Rise_ with the obstacles and roll with the punches.

_Rush_ into the arms of spontaneity.

_Crash_ through the barriers, and find a new friendship in the most unlikely of places.


End file.
